


The Odds

by thalassocnus



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassocnus/pseuds/thalassocnus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron squeezed his eyes shut, not sure whether to stay or leave. He knew what he wanted to ask, he just wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Fuck it. “Do you love her more than you love me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Odds

“That shirt was 200 quid, you know?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“The shirt you just ripped off me. 200 quid.”

 

Aaron rolled over to face Robert – the open window was causing the sun to reflect in his blonde hair – he’d look almost angelic if it wasn’t for the dried cum on his chest and his shit-eating grin. “200 quid, are you serious?”

 

Robert wrapped his arms around Aaron’s back, pulling him close, “It’s alright,” he said “I’m sure you’ll find a way to repay me”

 

“I just can’t believe you’d pay 200 quid for that hideous shirt. I swear, money is wasted on the rich.”

 

“What would you have me wear then?”

 

“Nothing. Obviously.”

 

Robert’s smile grew wider, “Obviously.”

 

They looked at each other in a comfortable silence for about few minutes until Robert put his head on Aaron’s chest, his hair tickling his chin, “’m sleepy”

 

Aaron smiled to himself and looked over at the clock. 2:03 – they still had an hour before Chrissie would be home. He let himself gaze down at the man falling asleep on his stomach with a warm fondness as he began to run a hand through his blonde hair.

 

“Love you” Robert murmured sleepily, muffled against Aaron’s chest.

 

Robert had started to say that quite a lot. Not just when he was drunk or when they were fighting, but also after every phone call and text; and once just because Aaron had got him a beer out of the fridge. The way he said it – said ‘I love you’ – like it was a given, would never cease to amaze Aaron. The sky is blue, water is wet, and Robert loves him. It was a lot to wrap his head around.

 

Aaron tore his eyes away from his sleepy lover as his gaze landed on a picture of Robert and Chrissie placed on their nightstand. They looked happy. Robert’s hair was longer then - shaggier, he was wearing the £200 shirt Aaron had just torn off of him. Chrissie had her arms wrapped around Robert’s neck and looked as though she was laughing at something he’d said. Poor cow.

 

“Robert?” Aaron said softly - cautiously, his hands freezing in Robert’s hair

 

“Mmm?”

 

There were a few seconds of silence.

 

“Leave her.”

 

Robert sat up in an instant. “Aaron...”

 

“I want you to leave her.”

 

“Aaron, we’ve talked about this”

 

“Okay, well let’s talk about it again then”

 

Robert ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “Do you really wanna ruin the moment?”

 

“Moment’s ruined. Leave your wife.”

 

“You know I can’t do that.”

 

“No. I know you _won’t_ do that. There’s a difference.”

 

“Okay, fine I _won’t_. Not because I don’t love you. But because… look, I don’t expect you to understand.”

 

Aaron rolled his eyes as he kicked off the covers and got out of bed, “Where the fuck is my other shoe?”

 

“Aaron, don’t.”

 

“I can’t, right now. Okay? I can’t. Either you can tell me where my shoe is or you can fuck off” Aaron said, pulling his jeans on.

 

“Can you just listen to me?”

 

“I’m bored of listening to your excuses Robert.” Aaron slammed the bedroom door and made his way downstairs, still with one shoe on - not quite how he wanted to make his dramatic exit.

 

“Okay. Okay. No more excuses.” Robert appeared behind him in his boxers, his voice gruff from sex. Aaron shivered.

 

Aaron turned to face him, “So?”

 

“I love Chrissie.”

 

Aaron huffed

 

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s the truth.”

 

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut, not sure whether to stay or leave. He knew what he wanted to ask, he just wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Fuck it. “Do you love her more than you love me?”

 

“No.” Robert replied softly, “No. I- you’re… you’re kind of… you’re kind of _it_ for me.”

 

Aaron said nothing for a while, searching Robert’s face for some sort of evidence to whether he meant it or not. “Robert you can’t… you can’t just say stuff like that to me. Not when you’re keeping me a secret like this, not when you’re married to someone else.”

 

“But it’s true.” Robert stepped closer towards him, “Aaron, you’re this… this talented, loyal, _sexy_ guy. You could have anyone – literally anyone - you want. And yet you stay with me. I’m… I’m not a good person Aaron, I mean look what happened to Katie. I treat people like shit, including you – especially you… and I’m _married_ for fuck’s sake _._ You could be with some guy who treats you like you deserve and yet you keep coming back to me. You keep coming back and I don’t deserve it. You know all of this stuff… all of this _horrible_ stuff about me. About who I am – and you keep coming back. Why do you keep coming back?”

 

“’Cause I know ya, Robert. I _really_ know you. Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re not a good person. Trust me, I’m under no illusions there, but then again, I never did like ‘em on the straight and narrow. The way… the way I feel… about you, it’s _because_ I know you. I know how much you love Vic – how you’d to anything for her, and Andy. And I know you could’ve given up on the business ages ago but you didn’t because you believed in me. I know that you cheat when you play Scrabble; that you love Halloween; that you have this… hatred for people who scare pigeons; that you secretly listen to Kylie Minogue _all the time._ So yeah, I know you. I know what an arrogant, selfish prick you are. I know that you lie and cheat and manipulate people to get your own way. I know what you did to Katie. And still… I love you. That’s why I keep coming back Robert. Because I love you. Can you really say that Chrissie’d say the same? If she knew who you were? Who you really were?”

 

Robert shook his head.

 

“You know she wouldn’t. She’d leave in a heartbeat, if she knew about you. About me and you… about…you being bi. About Katie.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Then, _why?_ ”

 

“’Cause I’m selfish. ‘Cause I want you both.”

 

“The other day… Robert, the other day, at the hotel. You said… you said you wished every day could be like that. It could be. You just have to leave her. Me and you – we could wake up next to each other _every day_.”

 

“And I want that. I do. But…”

 

“But what?”

 

“Well, then what? Think about it Aaron. You and me… we’re not gonna last. And then what?”

 

“You’re being an idiot, what are you on about?”

 

“It’s called being _realistic_ , Aaron. Yeah, we’d be happy for a few months, maybe. I’ll try and keep my head out of my ass and bite my tongue when I want to say something that’ll piss you or make you sad. And you’ll try and be happy - for me. Or maybe you won’t even have to try, maybe I can make you happy. God knows I want to. But then… then those few months will be over. And I’ll start being selfish or spiteful or-or jealous and you’ll get annoyed with me or you’ll… you’ll blame yourself. And then… then for a while we’ll just _be._ We’ll fight. A lot, knowing us. But we’ll get through it because for whatever reason, this… this _thing_ between us is worth it. For a while anyway. And we’ll be like that, just like that. For 100, 200, maybe even 800 days. But then one day… One day, Aaron, you’ll decide you can’t take it… take _me_ anymore. Or maybe one of us will meet someone else. Maybe one day we’ll just be sitting on the sofa, watching TV and we’ll just fall out of love with each other, just like that. Because that’s how the world works. We could be together for those 800 days, maybe we’d even be happy for 400 of them. But it’ll end. It’s all going to end. And then what do I have to show for it? 800 days just… washed down the drain.”

 

“You don’t know that. Any of that. There are couples who stay together, Robert. Couples who literally die together. And I know we’re… a bit, well, a lot, dysfunctional. But, that could be us. If we’re good to each other, it could be us”

 

“Yeah and what’s the probability of that happening?”

 

Aaron shuffled awkwardly and began to look at the floor. When he looked back up at Robert, his eyes were filled with tears. He shrugged helplessly.

 

Roberts’s voice was a lot smaller when he began to speak again, “I don’t like our odds”

 

“Well, okay” Aaron took a deep breath, fighting the onslaught of tears, “so odds are we break up… is it not worth it? Me and you. For those 800 days?”

 

Aaron felt his hands being taken into Robert’s own, though he daren’t look. “Aaron…” Robert began stroking his thumbs with his own “Aaron, look at me”. And for the same reason he kept coming back him, kept lying and cheating for him, he looked up into Robert’s eyes. He looked sad – helpless, even. “Aaron, 800 days with you sounds like… like heaven. Some crazy, fucked up version of perfection.” Robert gave his hands a quick squeeze, “But I… I can’t just think about those 800 days. I’ve got to think about the rest of my life. And so do you. I mean, fuck, 800 days with me is enough to mess with anyone’s head. God knows I’ve done enough damage already.”

 

Aaron pulled his hands away sharply, leaving Robert clutching at air, “Don’t you dare act like you’re doing _me_ a favour. This is all for your own benefit.”

 

Robert’s hands fell to his side, “I’m sorry”

 

“Is that it? Jesus Christ, Robert. You’re so _stupid,_ you know that? Do you know how much you frustrate me? Yeah, okay, so we’d probably break up one day. 800 days is a long time to be putting up with your bullshit. But what makes you think Chrissie won’t leave? What makes you think Chrissie won’t get tired of your shit?” 

“She probably will. But 800 days with Chrissie means 800 days of working for Lawrence, 800 days of living in Home Farm and driving around in sports cars. 800 days of bossing people around, buying my family expensive gifts and going on holidays. 800 days of being with someone who makes me look… normal.”

 

Tears were rolling down Aaron’s face at this point – he wiped at his face, angrily. “And we’re back to this… this _gay_ thing again.”

 

“It’s not a _gay_ thing. It’s a status thing. You have no idea… Aaron, everyone hates me. Do you have any idea how miserable that makes me feel? How lonely and pathetic? At least this way, they can hate me all they want, but they have to respect me. Respect me for my money or my car or my gorgeous wife. I can’t go back to being that _pathetic_ kid I used to be. Not now. Not now people finally respect me.”

 

“You’re deluded.”

 

“I’m sorry you feel that way”

 

“Thing is, Robert, _I_ don’t hate you, I wish I did.”

 

Robert said nothing.

 

“Is it really that important to you? What people think?”

 

Robert nodded slowly – sadly, avoiding eye contact.

 

“Well, I don’t respect you Robert – not while you’re living this… this lie. So go on… stay here with your wife and your car and your _respect._ You won’t be hearing from me. Not anymore.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying we’re over. For good.”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No. You’re not leaving me. Aaron, I need you.”

 

Aaron shook his head sadly, “Sorry, I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.”

 

“Aaron, wait” Roberts voice cracked

 

“What, Robert?”

 

“Don’t leave. Please. I love you. Don’t leave.” Robert desperately tried to grab Aaron’s hand, but he pulled away sharply. He was panicking now, his entire body trembling, his voice thick with tears, “Aaron, Aaron, please. Please don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much. Aaron, don’t. Please don’t.”

 

Aaron took a good look at the man before him. Robert was literally pleading with him now, crouched on the floor in his boxers, his hair in his face and his eyes red from crying. He really was beautiful, even then. “I’m sorry,” Aaron said finally, “it’s not enough.”

 

“No… Aaron, no. I’ll change. I’ll…”

 

“Bye Robert.”

 

And with that he left, shutting the door behind him.

 

He wiped his eyes with the back off his sleeve and fished his phone out of his pocket. He found Robert’s number and let his finger hover over the delete button, working up the courage to press it. “Come on,” he muttered to himself under his breath, “you have to do this.” He closed his eyes and pressed the button.

 

> Contact deleted.

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 7 of Russell T Davies' series Banana has HAUNTED me and a lot of this dialogue is based on the feelings that episode left me with, so. Check it out, maybe.


End file.
